


Right In The Middle Of A Good Dream

by dervish_and_banges



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dervish_and_banges/pseuds/dervish_and_banges
Summary: A few scenes from a summer at the Barns





	Right In The Middle Of A Good Dream

Ronan loved summer. For Ronan, summer was lightning storms and tank tops and, cliche as it was, the feeling of freedom.

This summer was non-magical forests and grassy fields and swimming holes, a Coca-Cola t-shirt drying in the breeze, neatly-kept gardens, sun on shoulders, dreamt fireflies. There were no longer ancient kings sleeping under the ground, but there was an undercurrent of magic no less. This summer was a beginning and an ending. For Ronan, this summer was Adam.

 

It was early June, and the weather was already merciless. Ronan’s skin never seemed to burn, no matter how exposed his shoulders were—unlike Adam, whose face was pink after three minutes outside. Ronan fell asleep in the grass next to Adam, sun beating on their bare chests, and woke with a bottle of SPF 300 sunscreen. Adam laughed, and Ronan squirted some at his chest. “You need it,” he said. “Look, you’re already a tomato, and we’ve been out here for fifteen minutes.”

Adam snorted. “More like an hour. You slept through most of it.”  

Ronan silently calculated the number of days until Adam would leave for college— _why didn’t he know already?—_ as he studied the lines of Adam’s face and chest.

“Been watching me sleep for an hour, have you?”

Adam gave him a wide, sarcastic smile, showing as many teeth as he could. “Only forty-five minutes.” Ronan chucked the bottle of sunscreen at him.

 

The next day, they sat in the grass again, this time with Opal. Her new hobby was yanking out fistfuls of grass and using it as confetti. She decorated the boys’ shoulders with it. Ronan glanced at Adam, who was still bright red. “Maybe I should’ve dreamt you some Aloe vera while I was at it.”

“As long as you don’t dream Opal any actual confetti,” Adam replied, dusting off his shoulder, but he was smiling.

Ronan reached over and plucked some out of Adam’s hair. “Opal, don’t make me ban you from grass.”

 

“I think I love you,” Adam said—blurted, really—suddenly and loudly—as he walked into the Barns one day. His faded t-shirt was covered in dirt from work, but he always wore even his dirt-coated shirts like he was trying to make himself presentable, though he likely hadn't seen anyone between leaving work and arriving at the Barns. The door had barely shut behind him and Ronan had barely entered the room when Adam blurted this revelation to him, Henrietta accent slipping into the five-word confession.

Ronan was torn, words failing him. His vocabulary was swears and actions, clever retorts and movements, slammed doors and smirks. He was torn between something like, “you think?” or “asshole” (both lovingly, of course) or maybe the truth: “I think I love you, too,” (possibly with an added _Parrish_ at the end). But Adam wasn’t looking for a response; the declaration wasn’t an expectation. He huffed a little tired sigh, and grinned sheepishly. Ronan watched the left side of Adam’s face glow in the afternoon sunlight, shining through the old house’s living room window.

Ronan stepped forward and took Adam’s hands (bony, calloused, long fingered) in his own (darker, scratched from Chainsaw’s claws), pulling Adam toward him. Adam let go with his left hand, shrugged his satchel off his shoulder onto the floor, and then leaned towards Ronan again, giving back his hand. Ronan lightly nudged the satchel away with his foot and held Adam. They were still just inches away from the doorway, just moments away from when Adam had arrived home, but they stood there.

Adam Parrish hadn’t had love in an abundance, especially not before Gansey swept him into his life along with the others. Ronan started to sway slightly, bringing Adam with him, an almost-slow dance. He let Adam’s confession rattle in his head, unable to think of anything but that he loved Adam, too.

_“Ab imo pectore,”_ he whispered into Adam’s ear. _From the bottom of my heart._

Ronan could feel Adam smiling. He felt like he wanted to set something on fire. He was happy.

They stayed like that for a while, until Adam decided he needed to shower and maybe sleep (which he did more often at the Barns than his St. Agnes apartment these days), and Opal bursted inside, covered in God-knows-what from God-knows-where. She chewed a piece of grass like it was a mixture between a toothpick and bubblegum.

Ronan worked, and dreamed, and told Opal to stop eating a paper towel roll, all before Adam stepped out of the shower.

Later, as Ronan laid next to Adam, who was decidedly not sleeping, but softly tracing the lines of Ronan’s tattoo with his fingers, he said, “I think I love you, too, Adam Parrish.”

 

Gansey, Blue, and Henry called the next day. They were still early in their road trip, but Gansey and Blue sounded as if they had been friends with Henry their whole lives. All of them had always been intense when it came to friendship. Gansey sounded…free. As Gansey ended the call, he said, “I think it’s going to be a good summer.” 

Ronan glanced at Adam, ignoring the clock that had started ticking in the back of his mind. Though he never would have been cheesy enough to say it, Ronan thought so, too.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song "I Think I Love You" by The Partridge Family, which sort of inspired this fic. Thanks for reading!


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